


I Hope I Make It On My Own

by ILookDaftWithOneShoe



Series: 'Loki Feison is alive and well and living only in theory' [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Emotional Manipulation, Explicit Sexual Content, Multi, Psychopathology & Sociopathy, Smut, loki no, loki thinks some weird shit during sex evidently
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-25
Updated: 2013-05-30
Packaged: 2017-12-12 22:36:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/816845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ILookDaftWithOneShoe/pseuds/ILookDaftWithOneShoe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The continuation of Can't Help Thinking About Me - Loki's life after Guildhall, including his meeting Darcy and his moving to America.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Loki Meets Darcy

**Author's Note:**

> Er, warning for sex? Tasertricks.
> 
> All The Madmen is on its way, but I thought I'd probably better finish this off first instead of procrastinating viciously.
> 
> First time writing het as I'm sure is fairly noticeable.

Loki knocked on the door to Darcy's trailer. It was the evening of day eight of filming, but the pair had only exchanged brief words so far. In the interest of on-screen cohesion - hard to do a sex scene if you'd only just met, really - Loki was planning to get to know his co-star a little better.

Plus - though Darcy didn't need to know this - he'd been fucking her boyfriend since day one, and he was quite interested in gauging how she'd react when she found out.

"Miss Lewis?" Loki asked politely, poking his head around the door.

His leading lady's face peeked around from down the trailer, near the bed. "Oh! Loki! Come in!"

Loki smiled warmly - falsely - and said "May I have a seat?"

"Holy shit, you're English," Darcy said in disbelief. "What happened to the 'merican accent?"

"I'm an actor, Miss Lewis. May I have a seat?" Loki repeated.

"Yeah, go for it," Darcy replied, looking a little miserable.

Loki settled himself in a soft chair, perpendicular to Darcy's seat. "What has you in an ill mood, Miss Lewis? Can I help?"

"Call me Darcy," she said. "It's nothing. My boyfriend's been a bit of a dick recently."

Loki shrugged knowingly. "You don't have to tell me how men can be."

Darcy shot him a tired grin. "Let me guess. All good-looking male actors are gay. Case in point, Loki Feison."

"I've had my fair share of men," Loki smirked teasingly. "But, Darcy dear, I'm very changeable."

"Gotcha," Darcy smirked. "So, you're not here to listen to me gripe. What do you want?"

"Merely to acquaint myself with you better before we're forced to display our connection on screen," Loki said.

"Cool. Thanks. Hey, you don't know a Luke, do you? My friend said her boyfriend's brother was around here somewhere," Darcy asked.

"Last name?"

"Uh...Burison, I think," Darcy replied.

"That's me," Loki confirmed.

Darcy laughed. "Really? My good luck. I tased your brother once."

Loki broke into a genuine grin. "What? Why?"

"He was sneaking in to my flat to sleep with Jane, my friend. His girlfriend. I thought he was breaking in, so I tased him. Why'd you change your name?" Darcy asked.

"I'm not Thor's brother. Not by blood," Loki shrugged. "It's a stage name, in any case."

"So your proper name's Luke? I like that more, it's less scary."

"Oh, you think I'm scary, do you?" Loki teased. "Is it safe for delicate Miss Darcy to be alone in her trailer with me?"

"Course it is. Hey, have you actually met my boyfriend around?" Darcy asked, sounding a little bitter.

 _Their relationship is not doing well. More's the pity,_ Loki thought. "In passing, yes."

"He's such a dick. I mean, he said I'm not allowed to have my make-up done by Jake, the male artist, only by one of the girls," Darcy ranted. "Controlling much?"

"It does seem like it," Loki smiled, thinking that he'd found a new tangent. Darcy wanted to break free and rebel in some way, and that always led to questionable decisions.

-O.O-

Two hours later, and Darcy was not sober, a trademark of Loki's manipulations. Sober folks were more sensible.

They'd been through everything wrong with Darcy's boyfriend, then everything wrong with sexism in acting, then everything wrong with sexism in general, then the perils of high heels, then how hard it was to find good leather boots that flattered your ankles, then everything wrong with Darcy's boyfriend again.

Obviously, Darcy was choosing the conversation topics. Loki was smiling and giving sweet and helpful replies while topping up Darcy's wine glass.

This was the result of 28 years of mental training: Loki didn't sincerely care even a little about Darcy's little problems, but he could perfectly emulate the appearance of someone who did. He wanted something from Darcy - that was, into her pants - and he knew exactly how to get it.

In other words, despite what Frigga and Odin had thought was the best thing, Loki had managed to grow up into a proper psychopath.

"And I ask him to keep his pubes trimmed - oh, TMI, man, sorry, I'm drunk -" Darcy started giggling. "That's fucking gross, you don't need to know that."

"I've heard worse," Loki smirked. "I spent seven years in college. Nothing fazes me."

"Shit, you really fail first-year acting that much?" Darcy snorted.

"I'm a Master of Psychology, Darcy. I _know things,"_ Loki said, leaning closer to her in a conspirational tone. Now was his time, he knew it.

Darcy's eyes locked on his, looking thoughtful. "Then tell me why I'm dating a guy I don't like and having wine with a guy I really, really do."

Playing, Loki purred "Well, Miss Lewis, technically, I'm not drinking wine-"

Darcy shut his sass up with a kiss. He knew how to play this - he acted surprised at first, not kissing back, before wrapping a hand around her neck and pulling her closer.

After a minute of chaste kissing, Darcy pulled back, her full red lips red and wet. "I'm sorry, Loki, I just, I'm lonely and drunk and you're being really nice to me. Maybe you should go."

But Loki had been in this situation before and done it wrong, and he'd do it right now. She was pushing him away because she really wanted him but didn't want to look like a slut to him.

Easy.

So he pulled her into another kiss, and she groaned low in her throat to show her enthusiasm.

He let her take the lead; otherwise, he'd be pushy, and she could blame the whole thing on him.

But Darcy wasn't backing down. Leaning from her seat to his, she wrapped her hands around his neck and asked entry into his mouth, making the kiss wet and messy, giving a little whine in the back of her throat.

With one hand, he tugged her into straddling his lap as he gently ran his other hand up the curve of her side, from one wide hip to her narrow waist to her breast.

Darcy moaned a little as Loki's hand trailed across her torso, as though he were reading braille. "Beautiful," he murmured reverently, knowing it would banish any doubts she had.

People were sometimes just too easy if you weren't bogged down with empathy.

In a moment, Darcy was tugging at the buttons of Loki's shirt and her cardigan was on the floor, Loki's hands slipping the straps of her sundress down to gently massage her breasts through her bra. He almost purred in appreciation - he hadn't been lying with the compliment.

Six buttons later and a few minutes of hot licking into each other's mouths, and his shirt was gone, Darcy's hands falling on muscle as she went to undo his belt. In a moment he'd switched their places, feeling a warm fuzz of arousal and satisfaction at having Darcy under him.

Loki pushed Darcy's hands away from his crotch in favour of peppering light kisses across her jaw, then tickling down her throat. She giggled drunkenly at the feeling and said "Just get on with it!"

Instead, Loki kept working down, tugging her bra down with one hand so he could press his mouth to her nipple. She groaned low in her throat, a delicate hand flying up to grip the back of his neck and pull him closer.

He reached up her thigh with the other hand, pushing the skirts of her sundress away to brush his lithe fingers against her crotch.

She choked out his name in surprise, to his amusement. "Loki, please-"

Loki dropped to his knees in front of the seat, his head between her thighs he looked up at her for confirmation.

Darcy tangled her fingers in his hair, mouth opening in aroused surprise as she realised what he wanted to do. When she did, she tugged lightly on his hair to pull him closer and made a whine high in her throat.

In a moment, he'd shimmied her underwear down her legs and pressed his mouth to her cunt.

The first time he'd done this, back in high school, he'd been shy. Now, he was used to it.

As he brought a hand up and added his fingers into the mix, Darcy jolted and yanked on his hair before blurting an apology. The pain shot from his scalp to his groin, making him even more aware of his erection pressing uncomfortably against his pants.

_Ah, the perils of being 28 and giving head to an attractive woman._

He tried to shove his arousal away, focusing on what he was doing to Darcy. It was hard when it was so strong.

_If I was gay, this would be so much easier._

_Wait, no, it would be more difficult._

_It'd be a fine balance._

_I really should be paying attention._

_The more I consider it, female genitalia really is disgusting and bizarre._

_So is male genitalia._

_This is an odd train of thought to have at this particular moment._

He was cut from said weird train of thought by Darcy kicking painfully at his back as she neared her climax. With a final thrust of his two fingers and a flick of his tongue, she came, whimpering his name as she grew oversensitive.

Loki pulled away and rather messily wiped his face on his arm as he stood up. He was hard enough that actually getting to his feet was a tad uncomfortable.

Darcy's composure was long gone. She was breathing heavily as she looked at him with a touch of embarrassment tinging her cheeks. "Loki..."

"If you want me to go, I will," he said with a roughened voice, deciding that there was a touch of awkwardness in the atmosphere, at least for Darcy. It didn't really affect him much; never had. He considered that an advantage.

"Hell, no," Darcy said with a flushed grin, pulling him forward by his undone belt to straddle her. "Do you have a-" She made an odd gesture that Loki took a moment to understand.

There was just an oddly companionable rustling as Loki and Darcy both snatched his jacket at the same time. In a moment Loki had retrieved a condom from his wallet and rolled it on.

"Come on," she said with a wicked grin, quickly shuffling to the couch so she could lie down properly.

Loki loomed over her, pulling her in for an affectionate kiss even though he was hard enough to cut steel. He needed to take a little time for her to be ready for the next round without being uncomfortable, and he busied himself making gestures he knew would be deemed as affectionate by Darcy, like gently pressing kisses onto her face or softly stroking the tender skin on her sides.

When her breathing started to quicken again in want, he pressed his mouth to hers again as he pressed into her.

"Darcy..." He said as softly and longingly as he was able to drive her crazy. Loki was fully inside her, feeling her hot and wet and clenching around him. He couldn't help himself, letting out a guttural moan.

 _"Move,"_ Darcy gasped, and he began to thrust; gently at first, before quickening into fucking her properly.

Loki was getting close, and so was she, he could feel it.

This was his favourite thing. A more direct and sharp pleasure than messing with people's heads, and more capable of wiping out his constant and pressing thoughts. His hands were exploring her body again as they again met at the mouth.

Darcy's fingernails were raking down Loki's back and the pain was making him more desperate; he thrust quickly, knowing he was perhaps being a little rough and not caring at all.

_Pain feels so fucking good-_

_It's coming, I can just stop my brain for a moment-_

Loki came apart with a cry of Darcy's name, and his brain wiped itself all thoughts as she came a couple of seconds later, another jerk of her hands jolting pain through his back and causing him to yelp out in pained pleasure.

"Loki!" She moaned as she shuddered violently.

Loki just stayed on his elbows over her, panting desperately.

A few minutes later, once they'd both come down from their highs, Loki withdrew and pressed another kiss to her sweaty hairline. "Beautiful, Darcy."

Loki was sincerely curious as to what would happen next. Regret, enthusiasm or acknowledgement of a one-night-only thing?

Darcy pulled herself up, feeling rather jelly-legged, and covered herself with a throw rug somewhat uncomfortably. "I'm sorry, Loki,"

"Whatever for?" Loki said with a slightly shy smile. He wondered why acting had never occurred to him before Professor Sigurd. It was so natural to him to lie like this. In a roundabout way he actually had Darcy completely wrapped around his pale fingers - in more ways than one.

"I shouldn't've done that. You're a great guy, Loki, and I shouldn't have used you to get over my so-called boyfriend," Darcy said, looking rather apologetic. "I'm a mess. I'm sorry."

Loki scooped her into a tight hug, pressing his face to her hair.

That type of hug always reassured sadnesses like that one.

"There's nothing wrong with you, dearest. You cannot blame yourself for the way he makes you feel," Loki soothed.

Darcy fell in love a little bit. "Thanks." She sat there for a few moments, feeling warm and protected, before saying "You can stay here tonight, if you like."

Loki chuckled. "I think less rumours would be spread if I emerged from my own trailer tomorrow."

"I guess," Darcy said, not really wanting to be alone when there was an alternative in Loki.

Dressing himself quickly, Loki pressed a kiss to her cheek before slipping out. "See you tomorrow, Darcy Lewis," he said gently.

-O.O-

Darcy's relationship with Loki, all several weeks of it, flashed through her mind as her - soon to be ex - boyfriend shouted at her even though he'd been messing around with Loki too.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Loki slipping into his trailer, raw and unadulterated delight on his face as he laughed at the chaos he'd made.

Her mistake hadn't just been sleeping with him, of course - she'd fallen for his false personality, plain and simple, that perfect caring gentleman who knew the right thing to do at the right time. She'd been well and truly in love and he'd crushed her for no obvious reason.

This was cruel and twisted and, well, psychopathic.


	2. Loki Moves To America

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title says it all. I should stop making such self-explanatory chapter names.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter, because there really wasn't more to say.
> 
> I am proud of myself. I've written unpopular stuff before but never have I posted a story and gotten no kudos, bookmarks or comments in the first twelve hours. I'm not bitching, because people like what they like and I don't blame you guys. I'm just amused = D
> 
> Also, I know this is boring as frick, but it's really relevant to All The Madmen which will be much higher octane.

Loki decided that he wanted to move to America.

It was the final burning of bridges from his family - not that he'd seen them for over two years - and yet another fresh start from the reputation he'd quietly begun to accrue.

He was now also living on a different continent to his biological father. Again, he didn't have any proof that Farbauti was actually his father, but it seemed extremely likely, and a brief conversation on the subject with Frigga had confirmed that Nal had realised she was pregnant around then, confiding in Frigga as her nearest mother figure.

Nal had never filed a police report on the subject. The accusation of rape against Farbauti had been made by Nal's friends after her death.

Loki had less than no respect for either of his parents. Nal for letting herself being taken advantage of, Farbauti for, well, everything.

(Which wasn't fair in Nal's case - it wasn't like she  _asked_ for it)

In any case Loki wanted nothing to do with his rather pathetic heritage. He never even visited Farbauti in Bethlem Royal Hospital, despite the fact it was about half an hour's drive from his house.

Apparently Farbauti was a difficult patient. Knowing that prison had to be worse than a mental ward, Loki assumed that was probably intentional.

He wanted nothing to do with anyone who knew him. Thus, America. The acting jobs were better, too, of course, but mostly he just wanted to be alone.

-O.O-

Loki liked his new house.

He was never fond of that weird genre of house where everything was squishy and homely and it didn't match. Not only did it remind him of Frigga and Odin's house, but it clashed with his fondness of tidiness and matching things.

This house was excellent. Modern and tidy and the plunge pool was to _die_ for.

After a lifetime in England, barring a few excursions overseas for filming, the pressing heat of Malibu was beautiful.

He'd kept all his furniture in his house in England, so everything was crisp and new and smelled like freshness and plastic.

The crisp, sharp sheets of his new California King bed needed breaking in.

Therefore he slipped into a tidy, debonair suit and headed out into Hollywood.

Unfortunately, the first girl he struck up a conversation with - from behind, it might be added, so all he saw was wavy dark hair and an oddly familiar ass - was none other than Darcy.

She turned, recognising the accent, and slapped him _hard_ across the face.

Glaring, her eyes burning, Darcy said "Okay, I've hurt you. A bit. Now, what is it?"

Loki was seething at her having hit his face, hard, but it didn't feel like it would bruise, so he put away the urge to break Darcy's spine and said "I stumbled upon you by accident. In all honesty, I was looking for some mindless slut to wear the starch off my new sheets with."

Darcy scowled. "Classy."

"Would you like me to sugar-coat it, Miss Lewis? Lie to you again?" Loki intentionally slid into the sweet, charming smile he'd used on her in the past, and he loved seeing the flicker of recognition and disgust in her eyes. "No, tonight I have no patience."

"I hate you," she said, almost surprised by the revelation.

"Good for you. Apparently there is a club you may join," Loki said disinterestedly.

She went to slap him again. He caught her wrist and bent it painfully.

"Don't touch my face, you-" Loki caught himself, before saying something vicious she'd make him regret.

"You _what?_ Some other way of you hurting me? What the fuck is your problem, you psycho?" Darcy spat.

"Don't call me that," Loki said resignedly, releasing her wrist.

"Call you a psycho? You _laughed_ when I was crying in front of everyone on set! I can call you whatever I want to call you!"

"In my defence, your voice is rather amusing when you're upset," Loki shrugged. "Darcy, get over it or don't. Either way you do not fulfil what I'm looking for in a companion right now. Adios."

So he turned on his heel and began to leave.

 _How,_ Darcy thought, _can he just throw off and pull on personalities like that? It's disturbing!_  
-O.O-

Four weeks later and they met again.

In that time, Darcy had simply decided that if she met Loki again she'd treat him like a stranger. No leverage over her, no letting him get under her skin.

It worked. He was perfectly willing to hold a decent conversation with her, and didn't do anything untoward apart from a few digs at her to see if she would react.

She decided that he was goddamn bonkers. But surprisingly likeable so long as you didn't let him hurt you.


	3. Loki Got What He Wanted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki reads a magazine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short, I know. But it's really all that needs to be said; I've finished all the background for the sequel.
> 
> This is set while 1984 is in rehearsal.

_'Loki Feison, while a very skilled actor, is himself an enigma._

_I met him at rehearsals on the set of his recent work,_ 1984, _and found him to be charming and pleasant._

_"I'm just an English boy in America," he laughs._

_But for the whole interview, that's about as much private information as I get out of him._

_It's no secret Loki's step-father is Odin Burison, ex-Prime Minister of Great Britain, but when asked about his biological parentage, he deflects the question easily by saying he doesn't know._

_Other people at the theatre know as little as I do - barring Darcy Lewis, his friend, who refused an interview, no one could tell me anything more personal than that he doesn't drink and prefers to be left alone._

_Miss Lewis herself did not want to give an interview, but the director had worked with Loki before and had this much to say:_

_"Loki Feison is the best actor I've ever worked with. Excellent memory for lines, follows instructions to the letter, and can throw on a character like putting on a jacket. He changes everything about himself, the way he walks and talks and holds himself. He does it off stage too, when he's talking to people. Kind of makes you wonder if you're talking to the real him. I mean, if he can just chuck on a personality like a pair of shoes, then who knows who he really is?"_

_So who is Loki? We can name facts: educated at Guildhall, 32 years old-_

"What a pile of shit," Loki said irritably, throwing the magazine on the carpet. "I'm not some kind of mystery."

The empty hotel room had very little to say.

 _I got what I always wanted,_ Loki thought. _I'm alone._

**Author's Note:**

> Comments?


End file.
